Like Woodstock, But Everyone Has A Job

This past Friday afternoon, yet again, I was retarded enough to utter the words "Yeah, I think it's gonna be a quiet one." Which means it's now Tuesday and I've only just recovered from the mess that was this weekend. Let us begin...

Friday

Well I started off with good intentions. A movie (Transamerica, hilarious and highly recommended) that was supposed to be the peak of my night. But hey, it couldn't hurt to meet up with a couple of people afterwards for a drink, right? Tell that to my exhausted body when it got home at 3 in the morning. That's fine though, cause I can always recover tomorrow.

Saturday

Or not. One thing that Australians LOVE is a good outdoor dance music festival. Good Vibrations is supposedly the best of the bunch, but considering it sounded a bit dirty to me ('festivals' always make me picture loser hippies rolling around in mud while high on ecstasy), I hadn't bothered to buy a ticket, despite the fact that the majority of the people I know in Sydney were going and the event was in Centennial Park, which you can see from my balcony.

So early afternoon rolled around, and I figured there wasn't any harm in having a few beers at a local bar with my flatmate (that's right flatmate, not roommate) and a few others who were getting ready to head over. I was quickly talked into going along with the group, and thank god I did.

There was lots of sun, lots of beer, great music (I recommend Estelle to anyone into hip-hop/R&B, and oddly enough, Talib Kweli is now the only artist I've ever seen live more than once, and he is still awesome), and thousands of really good-looking people all running around in barely any clothing. Actually that last one was almost annoying. You know that unrealistically hot body types that fatties are always complaining about the media portraying? Yeah, everyone had those. Not that I had the distinct urge to rip my shirt off in such a public arena, so I guess it's all good.

The big act that everyone had made a fuss about was Mr. James Brown himself. I think the preceding act also deserves a mention though -- a DJ mixing while about 3 white guys with fake afro wigs were breakdancing on stage, eventually stripping down to speedos and then g-strings before leaving the stage. WTF. In the end I was dead tired by the time James Brown finally got on stage, and I only really know like one of his songs so I left after 20 minutes or so to grab some food and walk home.

Sunday

Laying around by the pool and relaxing like it's going out of style. God damn it's a rough life.